I didn’t come into this work just through education—I came through lived experience.

In my early 20s, I knew I wanted to be a counselor. Growing up in a pastor’s home, I was taught to recognize the needs of others and to step in with care. After earning my master’s degree in 2005, I began working with teens in a group home, and later with teens and adults in a clinical setting.

For years, I supported others through difficult seasons—until I found myself in one.

In my early 30s, my life shifted in ways I didn’t expect. I found myself questioning everything I thought I knew. There was a deep sense of loss, confusion, and disorientation—like I had lost my footing entirely. I felt alone, hurt, and unsure of who I was or where I was going.

During that time, I stepped into working in the school system, where I spent nearly a decade walking alongside children and teens. In many ways, those years helped me begin to reconnect with parts of myself that had been lost.

At the same time, I began my own journey in counseling.

Through that process, I started to recognize how deeply my beliefs, patterns, and sense of worth had been shaped by trauma. Slowly, I began to untangle those patterns and rebuild in a way that felt grounded, honest, and freeing.

And everything changed.

I experienced a kind of healing I hadn’t known was possible—not quick or easy, but real.

That’s what led me back to community-based counseling—this time with a deeper understanding of what it means to sit in that space. My experiences transformed the way I show up for my clients.

I believe healing doesn’t happen by being “fixed.”
It happens by being seen, understood, and gently supported as you reconnect with yourself.

My approach is grounded in:

• safety and trust

• honest, meaningful conversation

• understanding patterns without shame

• helping you move toward freedom, not just coping

You don’t have to have the right words or a clear plan.
We start exactly where you are.

There’s a story in scripture where a man, overwhelmed, exhausted, and ready to give up, rests under a juniper tree.

He doesn’t find answers there first.
He finds rest.

That image has stayed with me.

Because so often, people come into counseling not needing solutions right away—but needing a place to breathe, to be held in understanding, and to begin again.

That’s what I hope this space can be for you.